


Will You Still Love Me

by RottenMint



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Crying During Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Mild Praise Kink, Sad Ending, character injury, post season 2 ep 8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 22:35:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11323107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RottenMint/pseuds/RottenMint
Summary: In which Keith needs reassurance after discovering he's part Galra.





	Will You Still Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> You know, I almost find it ironic that I'm posting this fic right after I posted 'Behaviour' purely because of how the last line of that fic relates to this one. Although, the events in this fic aren't related to anything else I've written, so I guess it doesn't matter. 
> 
> As always, sorry for any mistakes, and constructive criticism is always appreciated.

“Keith?” Shiro knocks on the door. No response. “Keith, come on. I'm coming one way or another, but I'd feel a lot better if you invited me.” He hears a muffled noise from the other side of the door, and takes that as a yes. The door slides open.

“Hey, I just wanted to- Keith?”

Keith is sitting on his bed, elbows resting on his thighs as he leans forwards. One hand hangs limply in the air between his legs, while the other keeps a loose grip on his knife. His face is pale and drawn, eyes glazed, and Shiro’s chest constricts. He walks over carefully, sitting at Keith’s side. Normally, Shiro wouldn't hesitate to move closer, pull Keith into his arms, but Shiro keeps an ample amount of space between them.

The room is quiet except for their breathing. Shiro’s is measured, easy, while Keith’s inhales are sharp and his exhales unsteady. Keith’s gaze hasn't left the knife.

“Keith?” Shiro asks again. This time, Keith startles, then sighs.

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

“You've already asked me that once today, you know.” Shiro’s expression tightens. Of course he knows. How could he forget walking into that room, Keith lying injured and exhausted on the floor, curled into himself and looking so small and hurt.

“I know. I'm asking again just to make sure.” Shiro smiles, and Keith smiles back. It's more of a grimace than anything else.

“I'm fine. Tired. It's been a long day.”

“Your shoulder?”

“I'll live. The suit was tougher than it looked.” Shiro hums, his eyes drawn to Keith’s right shoulder. He can't see anything past Keith’s t-shirt, and it doesn't help to quiet the protective urge roiling in Shiro’s gut.

“Could I take a look at it? Just in case,” Shiro tacks on, “more for my piece of mind than anything else.” Keith shrugs, and the motion obviously pulls uncomfortably at his shoulder with the way he winces. Shiro gets off the bed, kneeling in front of Keith. Shiro grabs the hilt of the knife, cautious, and waits until Keith lets it go, placing it on the bed.

Shiro then reaches for the hem of Keith’s shirt, when Keith’s hands on his wrist stop him. He looks up at Keith curiously.

“That- before, in the room. That first Shiro wasn't you, was it.” Shiro pulls back then, taking Keith’s hands into his own.

“No. No, Keith, it wasn't me.” Keith is looking down at his lap, hair falling in front of his face, and Shiro has no idea what must be running through Keith's mind.

“I would never, _never_ make you choose between knowing who you are and where that blade came from, and us. We’re a team, Keith- you, me, Pidge, Hunk, Lance, Allura, Coran- we’re behind you every step of the way.” Keith laughs, sounding strained.

“Allura doesn't seem very happy about it.” Shiro tightens his hold on Keith’s hands.

“Give her time. She’s trying to adjust, that's all.” Keith hiccups.

“And you? Are you okay with- with this? With me?” Keith pulls a hand away to gesture at himself. “Are you okay with being in love with a Galra?” His tone is so self-deprecating it almost hurts to hear.

“ _Keith_ ,” Shiro’s voice wavers, though not in sadness, but _rage_ , “I love you for who you are. It doesn't matter if you're a sixty-eighth Galra, half Galra, full Galra. You're still you, you're still the man I fell in love with at the Garrison.” He pulls Keith off the bed and into his lap. Keith curls against him, tucking his head into the crook of Shiro’s neck. Shiro can feel a growing wetness through the collar of his shirt. He says nothing, only lifting his robotic arm up to cradle the back of Keith’s head.

Keith’s entire body shudders with the force of his sobs, yet he makes no sound aside from the occasional shaky breath.

After a while, Keith pulls back, staring at Shiro with red-rimmed eyes that are still leaking tears.

“Are you sure you're okay with this? I need to know now. I couldn't- I couldn't take it if you…” Left me again hangs unspoken in the air, and Shiro leans in, their foreheads touching.

“I'm not going anywhere, Keith. I'm not leaving you.” Keith nods, lips trembling, and Shiro lifts a hand to cup Keith’s cheek. Keith pushes, gentle, into the touch. He’s still watching Shiro with a watery gaze, but a minuscule smile has forced its way onto Keith’s face. Shiro can't resist.

He kisses Keith, his free hand sliding down Keith’s ribs and under the hem of his shirt. Keith doesn't stop him, wiggling closer on Shiro’s lap. Shiro releases Keith’s lips, mumbling against them. “I still want to check your shoulder.”

Shiro maneuvers them back onto the bed, helping Keith carefully out of his shirt. Shiro sucks in a sharp inhale at the sight of Keith’s shoulder. It's bruised, a dark indigo that’s lighter at the edges. The surrounding flesh is an angry red that fades into a harsh pink before it melds back into Keith’s pale skin. Shiro glances at Keith, whose eyes are focused on the corner of the room.

Shiro places a chaste kiss above the pink area of Keith’s shoulder, then slowly moves upwards, placing more kisses up the column of Keith’s neck. He bites gently at Keith’s jaw, and Keith whimpers, reaching down and palming at Shiro’s dick.

“You want to?” Shiro murmurs. Keith nods, shifting himself back into Shiro’s lap and simultaneously freeing Shiro’s cock from his pants. Keith chuckles when he notices Shiro’s already half hard. Shiro retaliates by undoing Keith’s belt, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it across the room. In another moment, he has Keith’s pants pushed down under his ass, and is prodding his hole with two fingers. Keith groans, releasing Shiro and reaching under his pillow. He produces a jar of pain relieving salve (Coran had gifted them each a jar after finding them in a storage room).

Shiro takes the jar, unscrewing the lid and coating one of his fingers in it. Keith takes a small amount into his palm, stroking Shiro now that his movements are eased by the salve. Shiro huffs, rubbing the tip of one finger around Keith’s hole before pushing up to the first knuckle. Keith gasps, twisting his hand on an upstroke, and Shiro gives a gasp of his own.

Shiro pumps his finger in, careful and slow before adding another. Keith shifts on Shiro’s hand until Shiro adds another, brushing over his prostate.

“Shiro,” Keith fucks himself down on Shiro’s fingers, “hurry up. I want you.”

“Think you're ready? Maybe I should-”

“Now, Shiro.” Keith demands, scooting his hips forwards. Shiro steadies his dick with one hand as Keith angles himself and presses downward. Keith sinks onto Shiro, good arm thrown around Shiro’s shoulder and mouth agape in pleasure. When Keith’s ass sits firm on the tops of Shiro’s thighs, Shiro wraps his arms around Keith’s waist, lifting him hard and fast before slamming him back down. Keith nearly shrieks.

“Shiro, Shiro, Ah,” Keith pants, breathy, “harder.”

They fuck fast, hard, and more than a little desperate. Shiro knows he’s not going to last, and with the way he’s hammering Keith’s prostate with each thrust, he doesn't think Keith will either.

“I'm close, baby.” Shiro grunts, snapping his hips as Keith is pushed down on his cock. “So close, because of you. You're so good.” Keith’s face is wet again, tears dripping off his face and onto Shiro’s chest. Shiro presses the side of his face against Keith’s whispering into his ear.

“I'm never going to leave you.”

Keith comes.

:::

“Is your shoulder alright?” Shiro pushes Keith’s bangs off his face. Keith smiles, small and genuine.

“It's fine.” They're laying on Keith’s bed, tucked under the covers with Keith sprawled on top of Shiro. They’re both sweaty, and more than a little messy, but can't bring themselves to get up and break the peaceful atmosphere they've created.

“I mean what I said. I'll never leave you. I'm going to stay by your side for as long as I can.” Keith raises an eyebrow.

“Is that a proposal?” Shiro shrugs.

“I guess it is.”

“I expect a ring, Mr. Shirogane.” Shiro grins, caressing Keith’s cheek before kissing him.

“I think that can be arranged.”

:::

A few days later, Keith finds himself standing in Black’s cockpit.

No ring.

No Shiro.

**Author's Note:**

> At first I was going to end this after the first page break, and then I was like "okay, wait, what if I...", and here we are. My first time writing smut, so I hope it was okay. 
> 
> P.S. Always use protection, kids. 
> 
> Come talk to me @ clever-canadian-goose on Tumblr!


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